


For Love

by 1V1



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Addicition, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Desperation, M/M, Manipulation, Pining, Poor Counsel, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, demonization, magical bindings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-20
Updated: 2018-11-20
Packaged: 2019-08-26 12:41:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16681816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1V1/pseuds/1V1
Summary: Valerius, seeing Count Lucio so in thrall to the Devil seeks a way to undo the man's addition to the power providing Arcana. But to subvert a being of eons old power, he will need something he doesn't have, a way to stand on equal ground. Desperation leads him down a path he knows will lead to his ruin.Yet he walks it regardless, for the sake of his love for a man he knows to be a fool.





	For Love

The count was in the thrall of the Devil. And while that shouldn’t have burned him as it did… jealousy was an ugly thing and it had wrapped itself around Valerius like creeping vines, chocking him to the point of rage. He wanted to yell, curse, break things, hurt- most of all he wanted Lucio back. He wanted his count back. Seeing his lover, his count, bend so easily to a creature that was full of half truths and manipulative actions well-  
No one got to manipulate Lucio but him. And even then it was for the better and certainly not to abuse his affection or trust Valerius rationalized. He loved Lucio. He adored him, and even if he could be a stubborn, brash fool, he was Valerius’s stubborn, brash fool. The man who for some moronic reason had managed to capture his affections and his heart.

And now the same man was at the Devil’s beck and call and to have the fact shoved into his face? Snarling, Valerius debated his choices.  
The Devil had offered something- but nothing came without a price, he was not a fool enough to think otherwise. He saw firsthand the ‘care’ the Devil gave his thralls, and Valerius wanted no part of that. No, he had his mind, his own choices, his freedom, and he would be a fool himself to give it up for anything. Power over one’s own mind was the greatest weapon you could have. What use was strength if you had not the cunning or agency to use it as you willed? True, he was a consul and not a count himself, but even he knew that sometimes you had to settle else you run yourself short. Vesuvia benefit from having a warrior for a ruler. It wasn’t like they had a army to speak of, and canals hardly made for a good armada.   
Valerius’s options were limited but he had options.   
He always had options.

He could accept the Devil’s offer, and try to subvert his hold whist using the Devil’s own corruption against him. However he was not so stupid to think he’d be free from corruption himself. And it was not like he was free of his own vices. It was a poor choice, one that posed too high a risk to warrant the reward if a reward would be given at all.  
He could seek the help of a magician. Yet, to his knowledge, magicians that could rival power on the scale of the Devil were rare, and more, their services did not come cheap, and they tended to govern and have their own loyalties. Aside from time constraints Valerius would be forced to rely on someone he couldn’t verify or vouch for.   
There was the option he was loath to even consider for a moment. To usurp Lucio. To abandon him to the Devil. The very thought was sickening to the consul and he swallowed back the unease he felt at even having thought it as a valid option. He wouldn’t survive it. Vesuvia wouldn’t survive it. No Count, a weak consul become Count- it would end badly, for all but the Devil.

Which left few other options, options Valerius never liked to consider but always knew existed.  
One was Morga- she might have sworn to kill her son, but she was too honor bound to fight the man whist he was chained and enslaved by another. No, if anything she’d consider the Devil a better prey to hunt. Her chance of success was low however, and even if she did succeed, Lucio’s survival would hinge on him getting the upper hand on the ruthless huntress. Also a high gamble. Too high risk, too low chance of reward.  
Valerius could attempt to draw Lucio back from his addition to the Devil’s power. Yet when he’d made an attempt to garner his notice, the count had been to far gone, to drugged on magic to even notice Valerius, let alone his distress. It was a pipe dream of action, one he knew the Devil would never allow see to come to fruition. No, the Devil would loosen his hold just to pull Lucio back the moment that Valerius would have hope. He knew it- it is after all, what he would do.  
There was also…

He sighed, sitting down, hands folded in his lap as he mulled over the option he kept close to his heart. Always up his sleeve, never used, pocket for fear of the consequences, the price he would pay and the cost it would incur on his life. A deal of such nature was heavy in what it would demand but for Lucio would it be worth it?

He thought on his count. The man he loved. 

Love was a curse, Valerius thought. A curse that chained him far worse than any snare the Devil might make. A thing the Arcana knew well enough and intended to use against him. The saccharine smile of fangs told him enough to know that much.

Closing his eyes, he leaned back, thinking to the scent. Greenery, the thrust of low grass and grapes, floral and alive. The dust of books and old parchment. Warm gold sunlight and the cool air of a cellar. The musk of slow fermentation, the mold of caves and catacombs. The cool damp earth and darkness void of all light. He remembered soft fur and hard bone.

“You’re getting better at this Valerius.” The ram said, gold eyes glittering in annoyance at being disturbed in his domain. He always was annoyed at Valerius’s arrivals, if just by the fact he was always wanting a warning but such wasn’t exactly easy to give when one wasn’t a magician.  
“Strange, you think if you didn’t want guests you’d make it harder for me to come.” The Ram snorted, ears flattening as he closed the scroll he’d been writing in, looking over his high desk at the consul. The hierophant was like him in many ways. But also unlike him in so many other matters.

“I did make it harder. However your connection and gateway is stronger than I’d like for it to be. Probably because you can’t help yourself.” The weight of a wine glass in his hand, full, was comforting. The arcana was nothing if not a good host. “Your love of wine would likely have you able to break any locks and open any doors I’d make you lay about lush.” The insult was a weak one, they both knew it. The old Ram was a lot of things, and while he wasn’t wrong, (Valerius did at one point, pass out drunk in the arcana’s wine cellar), the consul hadn’t been such in a long while.   
“But, my wine collection is hardly why you are here is it?” Gold eyes took in the sight of him, and Valerius returned the arcana’s stern gaze with his own. A tiny smile twitched at the corners of the Hierophant’s mouth.   
“You want something.” Valerius nodded his head and tasted the wine he knew would offer no sustenance or true intoxication. It tasted like roses and pomegranate. Lucio. The sharp look Valerius cast the old Ram was withering, but the baa like laughter from the arcana betrayed his knowing.  
“Please, I may be old, but I am not so ignorant to your feelings for your Count. Not to mention, that insufferable goat has always been a thorn in my side for eons.” The did not use his name or title. To do so invited him in. 

“Then you can guess the nature of my visit.”  
“Indeed.” The hierophant had his own wine glass, and for a while they remained in silence, drinking, savoring the wine and the warmth of the sunlight against golden frescos and gilded marble and tile. 

“How can I free him from the thrall of a being I cannot hope to kill, let alone harm?” The crux of the matter. But not the right words, he knew. Both of them knew that killing the Devil was impossible. No, what they needed was a way to break the chains on Lucio- for that was the Devil’s power. To chain one to that which they loved. And what did Lucio love but escape from all that could hurt him?  
The reflection was sobering. To think that Lucio would seek succor from the Devil, so desperate to seek freedom from the risk of pain, of rejection, from fear of death? To think Lucio would rather be with the Devil, than a man who would love him, even if it was a love that would remain unfilled and without union? His love, Valerius thought, perhaps not enough, maybe never enough, but it was genuine love he offered. Not the facsimile of love the Devil might give. 

“You know the answer Valerius, so why do you bother asking it?” The hierophant sneered, clearly annoyed with the poor query he’d been given.  
“Pardon then you’re grace.” He sneered right back. “But I did ask, and you still have yet to answer.”  
“And I owe you answers?” The glare was signal enough; Valerius walked a thin line with his Patron. He always had.  
“No, but you would be a fool to think that He should be allowed to do as He likes.” The angry snort was followed by a nasty growl. If there was one thing Valerius could count on, it was the hate the Hierophant felt for the Devil. Rams and Goats as it were.

“True. But you are right enough in what you know. Killing one of the Arcana is not possible as far as I know, much less, even theoretically so. It would cast a void into our realms, causing imbalance, strife, and as much as I hate him, he has his place. We all do.” Gold eyes flickered with knowledge.  
“But that is not to say there are means by which you can subvert his power, challenge him and remove that which would suffuse him.” There, the information Valerius sought.   
“Your power is that of conformity, tradition, values and ethics- the role of teacher and guide.” The ram leaned back, grey fingers tapping on his table, his scepter at his side.  
“Yet you also can be subversive, a point of rebellion- breaking down, rejection of said values, poor counsel.” The two locked eyes.

“You ask me to-“  
“I ask from you to give me what I need?”  
“For what?” The hierophant’s voice boomed across his domain. “What would you offer me, you, a consul who has nothing but deception and manipulation as he keeps a city state barely free of the enemies at it’s borders; what could you offer ME Consul Valerius of Vesuvia?” The magic was thick and cloying. The wine going sour and rancid. 

“The restoration of the balance and tradition you so cherish.” He stood, unwilling to expose his fear, his trepidation. It was his gamble, his ploy. A chance at petty rivalry to become a game for two beings of ageless existence to play out with their mortal thralls. “Give me your power, allow me to be what you know I am. Reversed.” A word of power, the Hierophant shuddered in it’s use. “I am your supplicant. You avatar. We know this, we both know another can come to you, that you could chose them, but you favor me, you know me. You know above all things I have been loyal, I have been given a hand and used the cards in it to my advantage. You and I are reflections. No other is better suited for your avatar. For your reflection, even as Reversed as I am.” Truth. A thing the Arcana valued close to the morals it so cherished and wanted to uphold.

“If-“ he began snorting and shuffling in his seat, -IF I were to grant this, to attempt this, we will both suffer the consequences. There is a chance one of us will die. There is a chance it will fail, in which case you would bear the consequences alone Valerius.” Pupils narrowed as they looked down at the man who asked for a boon greater than any other had asked of him. The only one with enough impute and brass to even dare it. “You would not be a human any longer, and it is likely you enevr would be again. Is he worth it to you? Is your weak and foolish count truly worth the risk you would have us both take?”

Valerius looked the Hierophant in the eyes. Gold to gold. Upright Arcana, reversed in the reflection of a mortal man.

“For love, yes. It is a price and risk I am willing to pay.”

Silence.  
“You will never be as you are now. I will cease to be able to offer you counsel and guidance.”  
“I am consul. I will manage.”  
“You will become a demon, not Arcana, a creature immortal, infused with my powers and yet confined to them as well.”  
“I have weathered worse.”  
“I will suffer.” That… hadn’t occurred to him. The arcana were immutable. “There is a chance I might even cease to exist if you fail to maintain both sides of my being. Your human nature will twist. Your flaws and virtues will become a mystery perhaps even to you- You already are reversed my child.” 

The hand, gentle and warm, cupped his face. Despite their animosity, Valerius was the Hierophant’s adherent. His supplicant. His avatar. Valerius was no magician, but he was a man of integrity. A man who understood both change and the need of tradition. Upright and reversed. The hierophant’s favored. 

“You still would ask this of me, my student?” His student, from a young man seeking to better the world to a jaded man, watching all he loved be torn apart, his work falling to ruin for things outside of his control. 

Gold eyes reflected the three prong scepter held aloft by the Hierophant, waiting, holding back the fear and hope that remained around his heart heavily than any chain the Devil could hope to cast over him.

“I would not ask it.” The scepter was heavy, not with weight but purpose. Knowledge, it carried eons of power and eons of limitations. “I would demand it.”

 

Valerius looked at his reflection and mourned. Demon he might become. Demon he would be. Reversed, he was the creature of destruction for what was, the flawed figure, the result of desperation, a being of poor choice and given a form to remind him the consequence of his actions.

The scepter was heavy in his hand. The wine glass in his talons fragile and filled with the bitter liquid that tasted of sour grapes.

For love, he mused, he had nothing but poor counsel indeed.


End file.
